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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25897732">Deathworlder Down</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyoftheWoods/pseuds/LadyoftheWoods'>LadyoftheWoods</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alien Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Alien Logic | Logan Sanders, Alien Morality | Patton Sanders, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Fluff, Humans are space orcs, Hurt Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Sickfic, Sympathetic Anxiety | Virgil Sanders, Sympathetic Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Sympathetic Logic | Logan Sanders, Sympathetic Morality | Patton Sanders, WIBAR AU, past trauma</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:55:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,018</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25897732</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyoftheWoods/pseuds/LadyoftheWoods</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in @delimeful 's wonderful WIBAR AU. Virgil gets sick, and the others struggle to help him, not only with his illness, but the clear underlying emotional issues.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>145</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>655</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Humans Are Space Orcs, Non-horny Biology</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/delimeful/gifts">delimeful</a>.</li>


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/20621636">watch it burn and rust</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/delimeful/pseuds/delimeful">delimeful</a>.
        </li>

    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was quiet, on the Mindscape. </p><p>Logan was reading, absently twirling his fingers and hands as he studied, recording information, though he was certain most of it would prove false, as it was the little that was reported about humans. Most were comparable to ghost stories or urban legends, but there were a few that seemed more credible, that he hoped would give some more insight into humans in general. </p><p>Roman was off working out somewhere, sparring, he insisted it was just to keep sharp, but they all knew it was because he didn’t trust the human on board not to go feral and kill them any second, despite Virgil’s rather shy and withdrawn personality. Still, at least he was getting his aggression out elsewhere, and not by actually fighting or snarking at the true object of his emotions. He was doing better, still, Logan would give him that, but there was a long way to go. </p><p>He could hear Patton pitter pattering about in the kitchen, chirping and warbling to himself, making his lips twitch up into a smile. It had been far too quiet, without the little Ampen aboard, too much silence to drown in. It was a comfort he hadn’t realized he’d grown accustomed to, hearing Patton hum and chirp and sing all day. Now it was also a relief, a steady reminder their friend was back home, safe and sound, and he frowned again, thinking of how close they had come to losing him for good. That they would have, had it not been for Virgil. </p><p>Speaking of… </p><p>“Patton?” He asked, stepping into the kitchen, the Ampen stopping his trilling as he set the kettle on the stove, giving him one of his warm, happy smiles, that seemed to actually light up the room. </p><p>“Yeah, Lo? Everything ok?” Patton’s antennae twitched slightly, and he focused back on the present. </p><p>“Yes, I believe so, I was simply wondering if you’d seen Virgil today. He is usually awake by now. I was hoping to discuss some… perhaps sensitive topics, that I picked up on during our vidi.” </p><p>It was true. He hadn’t seen much, with how fast it had all turned, and spiraled out of hand, and though Virgil and him had been having question and answer sessions, the ones he really wanted to ask seemed more… personal. So, he’d kept them to himself, and simply continued his observations, and studied up on the information available to him. </p><p>And what he’d noticed was… concerning, to say the least. He was certain the human wasn’t sleeping enough. Unlike most species, humans could run on limited sleep for an extended period of time, but he was slowly becoming aware that just because humans had the capability to do something, didn’t mean it was natural or good for them to do it. They could survive grievous injuries that would have killed any other species, but it came at great physical and mental cost. They could survive intense radiation, but they would sicken slowly and die. They could imbibe substances that a single sip would be deadly to himself, but even in small amounts, it inhibited a human’s survival instincts and weakened them. </p><p>So just because Virgil was running on, at his best guess, four to five hours of sleep a day, didn’t mean that was anywhere near the healthy range of a human’s normal requirements. He’d noticed some of the side effects so commonly, he’d thought they simply were how humans were, until the Vidi gave him glimpses at others, who lacked the bags under their eyes, the deep bruising, that Virgil always had. Virgil was often unsteady on his feet, “light headed” he called it, he often stared out into space for minutes at a time, without registering anything that was said or happening around him, he ran into things, doorframes, corners of furniture, he stumbled and often had to lean against something to regain his balance. </p><p>The other issue was his diet. Logan was absolutely certain that Virgil was not eating nor drinking enough. With his permission, he’d taken his heart rate, he’d calculated how many calories his body must burn, at the least, throughout a day. With no physical activity, no exertion, the very base level of sleep, Virgil was missing at least hundreds, if not nearly a thousand, necessary calories, and that was if he were in a relaxed state, which he never was. The human was endlessly jumpy and frightened and twitchy, and he had admitted that his heart rate was much higher than it should be, most of the time, due to his constant state of high alert. But despite this, he ate nearly the least at meals, always pushing food around his place, making excuses to take small portions, at least half the time Logan was certain he hadn’t eaten at all until he was forced to at their daily dinner together, and only then because he didn’t want to upset Patton. Based on his limited understanding, Virgil was immensely underweight and incredibly sleep deprived, both dangerously unhealthy states for humans. </p><p>“oh! I peeked in on him a bit ago. He'd just woke up, said he was going to take a shower. I’m kinda surprised he isn’t out here yet.” Patton frowned, his feathers fluffing in distress.</p><p>“I see. I'll go check on him, Patton. Save me a cup?” He smiles as Patton’s face lights up again, only half surprised as Patton jumps at him, hugging him. He carefully supports the Ampen, holding him close, allowing his head to rest against Patton's small, fluffy shoulder.</p><p>“Thanks, Lo. For looking out for him.” Patton mumbled, as Logan let him go, setting him back down on the counter.</p><p>“Of course, Patton. It’s the least I can do. He deserves to not only be safe, but feel safe. I am happy to help make that happen.” Patton's feathers pulsed his trademark light blue, a sign of happiness, that made Logan’s hands flutter, trying to record the warmth in his chest, as he turns away.<br/>
…<br/>
He woke up with a groan, pushing the cupboard door open, jumping as his door opened, hitting his head against the back of the cupboard at the sudden movement, breath speeding wildly, before he registered Patton’s head poking in, concerned eyes on him. </p><p>“Hey, kiddo. Just checking in. Everything ok?” He sighed, but pushed back his exhaustion, summoning a small smile, making it as reassuring and genuine as possible, not difficult, faced with a small ball of fluff. </p><p>“I’m alright, Pat. Just catching up on some zee’s. Was gonna go shower.” Patton nodded, hopping into his arms for a quick snuggle, before chirping a happy goodbye and vanishing out the door. </p><p>He slumped back against the pylon behind him with another groan, rubbing his hands across his face, then up into his hair, wincing as he felt his hair stick straight up, matted with sweat. He’d stayed in bed far later than usual, but he hadn’t slept more. The night had been plagued with nightmares and sleep paralysis, filling him with terror so deep he couldn’t even scream, could merely panic until he passed out once more, tossing and turning restlessly. </p><p>He felt shivery, cold, and his head spun just a bit as he stood, his stomach turning at the motion, vertigo rocking him as he leaned against the wall for a moment, trying to get his bearings.</p><p>“fine. I’m fine.” He muttered, taking a few deep breaths in and out, before making his way to the door, listening for a few moments to make sure he couldn’t hear Roman anywhere nearby, he didn’t think he could handle the Crav’n in his current state. </p><p>Which was normal and healthy and perfectly fine. He had to be fine. </p><p>He made it to the bathroom with minimal stumbling, his vision barely swimming in and out, as he stripped, and turned on the water, hot enough it would probably burn any other members of their little band, but he just sighed in relief as he stepped in, letting the water run over him, soothe the aches building in his muscles. He let out a sigh, halfheartedly scrubbing at his hair, zoning out as he watched the steam. </p><p>As he watched, it seemed to form a shape, to swirl into a nebulous form, and his breathing stuttered, heart stopping, as he stared in fear at the suited figure, one of his captors, a needle stabbing down towards him, and he flinched back, the world blurring and swirling and fading out around him, static roaring through his ears, his heart racing as static filled his vision as well. Distantly, he heard knocks, someone maybe calling his name, then he felt his legs give out, his head hit something hard, and the world went black.<br/>
…<br/>
“Virgil? Are you alright?” He heard a loud thump, a crash, and his eyes widened, knocking again. “Virgil? If you do not answer me, I am going to enter. Virgil!” Nothing. He threw open the door, breath catching, freezing in place at the sight. </p><p>Virgil was sprawled across the bathroom floor, unconscious. His breathing seemed somewhat labored and shallow, and he could hear the slight wheeze to it from the doorway. What caught his eye first were the endless collection of scars, all across his body, covering nearly every inch of his skin, and it turned his stomach, it made him sick, the level of trauma and abuse Virgil must have endured. He’d known it wasn’t good, known he’d been a lab rat, an experiment, a being to harvest then sell off the parts once he was drained dry, but knowing it and seeing the scars, the marks of old burns from the stun batons, was something else entirely. And nothing Virgil had said had indicated the violence against him to be to this extent. He felt another surge of appreciation, for Virgil having protected Patton. </p><p>The second thing, that finally forced him into motion, was the small pool of red forming around the human’s head, likely where the back of his skull had impacted with the floor. Quickly, he grabbed a towel from off the rack, and rolled Virgil onto his side, wiping away the blood from his neck and hair, to see where to apply the pressure. He breathed a sigh of relief as he located the wound, surprisingly small, given the amount of blood loss, and he was confident a few moments of pressure would easily stop it. </p><p>“ROMAN!” He shouted with all his might, voice shaking and unsteady, hearing the crashing footsteps of the Crav’n immediately, the being sliding into the doorway mere moments later, scales raised to their extremes, teeth bared, ready to fight, no doubt hoping for an excuse to fight the human. </p><p>“Logan? What’s-“ Patton darts in around Roman’s legs, eyes widening as he instantly is at Virgil’s side, trembling, eyes wide as saucers. </p><p>“I need help. Roman, he’s heavy, I need-“ </p><p>“Ok. Ok, teach, I got you. Let’s get him dressed, then I’ll move him to the couch. What’s… what happened?” </p><p>“I’m not entirely sure. I knocked and heard a crash, when I entered, he was like this. I suspect it has something to do with his malnutrition and sleep deprivation.” He answered, focusing on carefully pulling Virgil’s hoodie over his head, hands clenching sharply as one brushes his forehead. “he’s burning up.” </p><p>“That’s what happens when he’s… when he’s sick. Humans get all hot and shivery and sometimes their stomach hurts and they can’t eat. But that only happened on the… on the ship. When… when it was really bad.” His voice wavered, feathers flattening. </p><p>“I would suspect that he has been feeling ill for a couple of days now, if it’s grown severe enough to make him pass out. His normal temperature is around 98.6 to 99, I would estimate his to be closer to one hundred and three. Has he seemed off to you, Patton?” </p><p>“He’s spent less time with me. Less time out of his room. I thought he just needed some space, but… but he was trying to hide he was sick, wasn’t he?” </p><p>“Why would he do that? Did he think we’d just abandon him like some deathworlder would an injured comrade?” Roman snorted disdainfully, helping pull pants onto the human, though Patton could see the concern hiding behind his outrage. </p><p>“Contrarily, he probably didn’t want to be a burden. To use up more of our resources and time. He constantly sees himself as lesser, as the least important of the group, therefore the one who should take up the least space, least time, least amount of food. Surely, you’ve noticed, Roman.” </p><p>“I…hadn’t. I’ll take him now, Pat.” He mumbled softly, gently shooing him back as he scooped Virgil into his arms, surprised at how light the human was, his head lolling limply against his chest, his cheeks flushed, while the rest of his face was even paler than usual. He could feel the frantically rapid beat of his heart, his eyes flicking uneasily under their lids, and his scales flattened in concern. As much as he didn’t trust the human, he didn’t want to see him hurting, either. And if what Logan said was true, Virgil had not only been hurting, but hurting himself, out of, what? Loyalty? Worry? He just couldn’t get a handle on him. </p><p>Then again, he hadn’t tried very hard to get to know him, or to give him a chance. But there was something in seeing him so vulnerable, without the usual piercing stare and silent slink, that made him soften a bit, made him remember that despite being one of the most fearsome creatures in the universe, that Virgil was essentially a child, by human standards. He was so thin, too. He could count his bones, under that hoodie. No wonder he was always cold, he had no layer of fat on his bones.</p><p>And those scars… </p><p>Well. It was enough to almost make him rethink his view on Virgil, at least, as he laid him down on the couch in the common area, Patton immediately taking a seat by his head, brushing his hands soothingly through Virgil’s hair, as the human shook, muttering something in his sleep that was undecipherable, though the tone of fear was impossible to miss, as his hand clenched against the fabric.</p><p>“We need to break his fever. Blankets, Roman? I’ll get you a washcloth and water for his forehead, Patton. If he wakes, he is likely to be disoriented or possibly even hallucinate, because of the fever. However, I have no doubt he will calm immensely upon registering your presence. You are… his lifeline, Patton.” Patton nodded, continuing to focus on Virgil, doing the coo chirp pattern used to soothe babies, one of the first things Virgil had mimicked back to him, back on that awful ship. </p><p>“He’ll… he’ll be ok, right? He just needs some sleep and he’ll be okay?” His voice trembled, and Logan’s hands clasped behind his back, eyes darting as he looked for the right words to say. </p><p>“I don’t know. There’s so little information, Patton, I keep looking and there’s just… not enough, to help him, in any meaningful way. There’s no way of knowing if this is just a ‘flu’ or if it is something more severe. I know his heart rate is high and his breathing rasping, but I don’t know if that’s the result of the illness or simply stress, I would give him medicine, but I don’t know what he can have, what would be helpful, and I don’t know what to do if it’s something we aren’t equipped to handle!” He exploded, pacing the floor somewhat frantically, hands flailing wildly, wincing as one smacked the wall. “I don’t know what to do, but wait.” He said, softer, taking a deep breath and rubbing at his hand, looking up as Roman came to stand before him, gently patting one of his arms. </p><p>“It’s ok, Lo. No one expects you to have all the answers. We know you’ll do your best. You always do.” Logan nodded, pulling himself together somewhat, striding off to the kitchen, Roman heading down the hall to raid the extra blankets from the closets. </p><p>“you’ll be ok, kiddo. I promise.” Patton murmured, nuzzling against Virgil’s cheek, giggling as Virgil mumbles again, leaning into his touch, hand unclenching, face relaxing minutely. When Logan came back, he huffed fondly, Patton curled up against Virgil’s shoulder, just a ball of puffed up blue feathers, pulsing soothingly.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Virgil has a nightmare, and briefly wakes up.  The crew tries to help.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Fun fact, had already posted this chapter on Tumblr and somehow forgot to post it here as well! Whoops!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fear. </p><p>Pounding, aching fear. </p><p>Shadowy figures surrounded him, discussing him in words he could almost hear, hushed voices he could almost understand, and it grated at him, it hurt his ears. He tried to cover them, but found he couldn’t move, not a muscle, his eyes were open but he couldn’t even blink, his fingers wouldn’t even twitch, and he could feel his heart hammering in his chest, but despite his panic his breathing remained steady and even. The shadows moved closer, their whispers growing louder, echoing in his head, screaming tempests against his ear drums, and he wanted it to stop, he needed it to stop, but it just grew louder, and louder, and then it was the suited beings again, holding a scalpel, and he screamed, as his chest was sliced open, the flesh peeled away to reveal the organs beneath, his heart visible through the blood leaking from him, and he realized though he was screaming in his mind, he wasn’t making any sound, his vocal chords as paralyzed as the rest of him, and he couldn’t look away, as they started ripping out his insides, tearing him apart, the pain splintering through his being, blacking out his vision, and he tried, he tried desperately to writhe and claw and fight his way free, but couldn’t even lift his head, and he was aware of them adding new parts, shoving metal and wires and circuit boards into him, the pop and crackle of electricity against his skin shocking him, sending him into spasms that somehow defied whatever drug they’d given him, back arching at the intense, radiating heat flowing up his spine, and he finally did break free, break out of whatever drug they’d used, a keening, desperate wail shoving past his lips as he shoved himself off the table, as he snarled and clawed and bit and slashed, anything, everything, to get free, until he’d fought off the beings, his breathing ragged and uneven as he looked at the monster they’d made him, all mechanical parts and twisted limbs, broken bones and spasming muscle. </p><p>“Virgil?” Suddenly a shadow Logan was there, looking down at him, head tilted and eyes empty, hands strangely still, assessing him like the specimen he was and he shuddered, twitching uncontrollably. </p><p>“No. That isn’t Virgil.” Patton, voice hollow, and he screamed again, because his feathers were torn from his body, bent and broken nibs trickling blood down his wings, though he didn’t seem to care. “Virgil wouldn’t do this to me. And he did.” He shook his head, trying to deny it, but memories rushed back, his hands, moving against his will, the metal twisting around his bones, jerking him around like a marionette, Patton, begging, pleading, but he couldn’t stop, the single thought in his mind echoing destroy, destroy, destroy. His hands, ripping handfuls of feathers, feathers flying around the room, getting stuck in his grinning teeth, his manic laugh, his twisted soul. </p><p>“No… nonononono…” He curled tight on the ground, ignoring the fire racing through him, the intense, burning, heat, trying to make sense of this, of anything, noticing for the first time his hands were stained red, seeing Patton’s agonized face in his head, his hands on his throat, pressing down, down down- </p><p>“Virgil!” Roman’s voice rocked his world, and suddenly his eyes snapped open, hissing at the sudden brightness, too confused to understand anything, vision blurry, from tears, he realized, his breathing stuttering in and out, barely enough to keep from passing out, his throat tight, barely a pinhole of space for air to wheeze in and out of, his chest felt so tight, so constricted, and there wasn’t enough air, and he was hot, why was he so hot, the wires, the wires twisting through his veins, no, he had to get them out, they would make him hurt them, hurt Patton, he couldn’t hurt Patton!</p><p>He started scratching at himself, clawing at himself frantically, uncaring of the wetness slipping down his face, he had to stop it, he couldn’t- </p><p>Bloody feathers, crushed neck, broken wings, shattered body, he couldn’t- </p><p>Hands. Hands on him. He hissed, growled, tried to shove them away, but he was weak, so weak, he couldn’t do anything, couldn’t get away, and they were stopping him, and he was going to hurt everyone, he had to let go, he had to stop himself, he was just a monster, just a toy, just a broken sack of bits and pieces that didn’t even fit together right anymore, why couldn’t they just let him stop? </p><p>“please. Please, I can’t, I can’t, I won’t, i… i…” He doubled over, curled into a ball, shaking so hard his teeth were chattering, feeling as if he was shattering into a thousand pieces, broken and stomped on and wrecked. </p><p>“kiddo. I need you to breath.” He flinched back, away from Patton, eyes wide with fear, shaking his head frantically, as he scooted away, the grip on his hands letting him go. </p><p>“n-no… no! I’ll h-hurt y-y-you they’ll m-make me h-h-hurt-“ he broke off, running out of air, all of it dedicated to keeping the spots in his vision from growing larger, from taking over and plunging him into black. </p><p>“virgil. You have never, never ever, hurt me. And they can’t hurt us, anymore. Do you remember that? We’re safe now, remember? You broke us out of there, and kept us safe. You’re safe, Virgil. We’re safe. We’re ok. We’re ok.” Patton repeated softly, using the gentle chirp of his native tongue, ruffling encouragingly when Virgil finally looked up at him, struggling for a few moments, before tentatively chirping it back. </p><p>“We’re… we’re… ok.” He echoed slowly, tongue thick in his mouth, head pounding, it hurt to think, it hurt to do anything, but he forced his mind to remember, to remember what he was missing, flashes of a slim, multi armed figure, of a bulky, scaled one, of a… a ship, and he managed a slightly larger, shaky breath. </p><p>“M-Mindscape?” He managed, and Patton nodded, eyes soft with worry. </p><p>“That’s right, kiddo. You got sick, do you remember that?” He remembered feeling not great, but that was normal. He remembered being dizzy, but that was all. He shook his head, feeling confused again, feeling slow and tired and hazy. </p><p>“That’s ok, Virgil. I just wanna help, ok? Will you let me do that?” Patton asked, taking a small step closer. “Will you let me help?” His gaze flicked to the others in the room, pulling at a dull memory, at familiarity, he knew them, knew them and they didn’t spark… fear. Not quite. But the scaled one’s gaze was sharp and angry, and the crystal one’s gaze was sharp and piercing, and both sent unease tingling down his spine. But Patton was asking, and he trusted Patton, and if Patton trusted them, then they couldn’t be bad. </p><p>“O-o-Ok.” He managed, letting out a soft sigh when Patton closed the distance between them, resting a hand on his leg, and instantly, the fight and stress drained out of him, eyes fluttering shut. </p><p>“You’re gonna be ok, kiddo. I promise.” Then nothing.<br/>…<br/>“He's hotter, Lo.” Patton said, voice shaking, as he felt Virgil's forehead. Sweat coated his skin, and he was panting for breath, shaking, obviously in pain, not just from the lines of red up and down his arms, where he'd started clawing at himself, before Roman stopped him. “he’s getting worse."</p><p>“We need to get him to drink. He’s severely dehydrated. I… hate to suggest this, but IVs may be the best option here. I know, it will cause added emotional strain, but his body does not have the strength or resources right now to fight off this illness. And I’d rather have him be upset or afraid than… than dead.” His words caused Patton to draw in his feathers, shrinking to nearly half his normal size, and he buried his face against Virgil’s side. Roman’s scales shifted, scraping against each other as they flattened, conflicting emotions racing through him. </p><p>He didn’t like Virgil. Didn’t trust him, wouldn’t have him here, if it had been up to him, but the thought of him… dying, still sent a spike of unease through him, one he could pretend was just for Patton, who was so attached to Virgil. </p><p>“ok. If it’s the only way, ok.” </p><p>He disinfected and bandaged Virgil’s arms first, before letting Roman shift him back onto the couch, fetching the medical supplies and hooking up the bags. Finally, he was standing over Virgil with the IV line in hand. All he had to do was insert it. He found himself incredibly resistant, now, to the idea, now that he actually was doing this, mind flashing to the moments he’d seen in the vidi, the pain and agony that had accompanied nearly every experience with a needle, but this was different. This was to help. </p><p>So he swiftly located the vein on the human’s wrist, slipping the needle in and securing it with gauze and tape, relieved when Virgil did no more than moan slightly, rolling onto his side and curling into a ball. He doubted the reaction would be so placid when he actually woke up to find a needle in his arm, but that was a future worry. </p><p>“Alright. That should help hydrate him, as well as give him some of the basic nutrients he is sorely lacking in, as well as some very moderate medicines. I doubt anything we have would do him any harm, but I don’t want to take chances and accidentally make things worse. Patton… you need to sleep.” He added, looking at the disheveled ampen, who shook his head. </p><p>“No, no, no! I have to stay! What if he wakes up?” </p><p>“He won’t for a few hours, at the very least, which is long enough for you to get some sleep. You haven’t slept since we found him.” </p><p>“Well neither have you! You’ve been pacing yourself silly!” He sighed, shoulders slumping.</p><p>“Alright. You’re right. If Roman stays on watch and promises to get us if anything changes, will you come rest with me?” he asked, knowing Patton wouldn’t turn down that offer, not with how rarely he was willing to offer tactile comfort, but they could both use some, right now. </p><p>“Ro? I know you don’t like him, but-"</p><p>“I’ll take care of him. I promise, Patton.” Roman swore, kneeling down so Patton could hug him, smiling as he butted against the underside of his chin, before stepping back, chirping an ampen thanks, hesitantly following Logan down the hall and into his room, Roman hearing the door slide shut.</p><p>He let out a low breath, scales flattening as he tried to calm himself, staring down at Virgil’s unconscious form. </p><p>“I don’t know what to make of you. I will never say this out loud again, but you terrify me. And I will not lose another family, to humans. But… every time you panic or lose control or lash out, it’s always at yourself. It’s always to protect Patton. You always choose to harm yourself over any of us, but you’re still a human, a death worlder, a dangerous, violent, creature.” He said, though it sounded much less convincing now, that it usually did in his arguments with Logan or his silent fuming. </p><p>Virgil moved slightly, his breath hitching, and his face creased, as if sensing Roman’s displeasure. </p><p>“no… please… m-mom…” Virgil mumbled, trying to reach out to something that wasn’t there, something only in his mind, and after a moment, Roman realized Virgil was crying, curling tighter. </p><p>He’d known Virgil had been stolen off his planet, but he’d never thought about the implications of it. He hadn’t considered that Virgil had clan, would have a mother or a father, that he’d lost everything, to aliens, without even having a chance to fight to keep it. </p><p>Roman knew how it felt, to lose everything, in the blink of an eye.  </p><p>“and then you go and say something like that.” He sighed, shifting into the chair left beside the couch, hesitantly reaching out to brush back the human’s hair, mimicking the motion he’d seen Patton do countless times, to soothe or relax the human, surprised as Virgil instantly settled, a shaky breath escaping him before his body seemed to go lax once more, leaning into his touch. </p><p>“this doesn’t mean I like you. It’s only because I promised Patton.” He grumbled, not moving away, despite himself.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Virgil's fever breaks.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning for some more violent imagery and angst galore!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Flashes.</p><p>The arena, blood on his hands, of all different colors, teeth bared, trying, begging, the other aliens to stop, he doesn’t want to hurt anyone, but they don’t understand or don’t believe him, and then they’re lunging and instinct takes over, and when he blinks, it’s to a puddle of pepto pink ichor and a mangled body in his hands. <br/>…<br/>The cell, he’s back in the cell, and they’re coming, and he wasn’t ready and Patton isn’t hiding and the door opens, and he lunges, biting, scratching, kicking, screaming, the stun batons sending lightning through his veins, spasming his muscles, and he was aware of Patton’s scream, as he’s dragged away, his pretty blood splattering across the floor, and he’s beaten, shocked, kicked, all the while hearing Patton’s anguish as his feathers were stripped from him all over again, only this time, when they throw Patton back in his cell, his eyes are empty and blank, his body broken and still, and there’s nothing left of the chirping little ampen, and there’s nothing left of himself, as he loses his mind, ripping and tearing through the wall, tearing everything in his path to shreds until a blaster goes off and shoots a hole clean through his chest. <br/>…<br/>He’s running. He’s on an alien planet, and he’s running, and he can hear them behind him, they’re catching up, as he tears through the brush and the trees, leading them away, away, away, from camp, and he staggers as a dart hits his neck, the world spinning on it’s axis as he goes down hard. He can feel the chains being shackled around him, the collar fastened onto his neck, and he can’t even breathe, as electricity burns his skin, from the collar, sends him into unconsciousness, and when he wakes, he’s back in the cell. And the nightmare restarts. <br/>…<br/>“no…” He’s walking home, it’s late, the streetlights on, as he slinks through the shortcut through the park. He hates it, but it’s the fastest way home, and he’s never had any trouble, though he’s heard stories of people getting jumped. </p><p>“No…” He winces, at a sharp pain in his neck, for a moment thinking he’d been stung by a bee or a wasp, but when he reaches to feel, a small dart comes away in his hand. He stares at it, befuddled, before he feels another sting, stumbling against a tree as the world starts to tilt, trying to stay upright. Cloaked figures, shrouded figures, language he doesn’t know, and he tried to call out for help, tried to get away, but another wash of dizziness stole his breath, and he fainted. </p><p>When he woke up, he was on the ship, in the cell. </p><p>“NO!” He jolted upright, pulse racing, breath caught in his throat, the cell, the ship, he was on the ship, needle, needle in his arm, what were they taking this time? What else could they take, they were going to sell him for parts, maybe this was finally to off him for the scientists, he felt dizzy and lightheaded, weak, disoriented, maybe the tranq patch had worn off early, maybe he had a chance to get away, maybe- </p><p>A hand, a scaled hand came into view, and he hissed, scrambling backwards, falling off the edge of the furniture he was on. One second it was the sterile room, the iron bed, the suited figures, then it was a couch, smooth walls, soft light. His vision flicked between the two and he couldn’t figure out which was the truth and which was the lie, the suited figures turning towards him, batons out, crackling with energy, the scaled figure trying to reach out, trying to say something, but he couldn’t hear, he couldn’t and it burned, and he was dying, he was sure this is what dying felt like, as he scrambled further back, further away, hissing again as the tug pulled the needle out of his arm, pressing his hoodie sleeve against it to stop the bleeding, but the red, red, red, brought him right back, and it was everywhere, and there was too much, and it wasn’t all his, the bodies scattered across the floor, the colors blending like some macabre watercolor painting, swirling and blending and mixing and-</p><p>Touch. Touch against his shoulder. He’d curled into a ball, hands over his ears, forehead touching the floor, making himself as small as possible, trying to hide, but the noise was everywhere and they’d found him and he was going to die, going to be sold off for parts and he was so stupid-</p><p>Then the touch moved, a small, so small, hand slipping under his chin, gently tilting his head up, feathers tickling his skin, as he met those big, doe eyes. Feathers. Blue. Antennae, moth like. Fluffy. Safe. </p><p>Safe?</p><p>“Breathe, Virgil. Can you do that? In… out…” the words sounded so far away, and not quite in sync with the mouth movements, but he tried to follow them, tried to understand, tried to copy his movements. “good, kiddo. You’re doing good. Do you know who I am?” The feathery being asked, and his mind stalled. It must have shown on his face, because the being’s dropped, expression sad, and he hated that look on Patton’s face-</p><p>“Patton!” He rasped, voice barely a whisper, throat dry and sore, not helped from the hyperventilating he’d just been doing, from the panic attack. “Patton…” his eyes welled up, and he opened his arms, Patton flying into them without a second thought, hugging him as wide as he could around his chest, Virgil careful as he held him, letting his face rest against his soft feathers, mumbling an apology about getting them wet, met with Patton’s relieved little choked laugh. </p><p>He was shaking, he couldn’t stop shaking, the room still flickering, time and space folding in on itself, and it was making him dizzy.</p><p>Then Patton started doing the chirp, coo, pattern, vibrating against his chest, grounding him as he struggled to get his breathing under control, to force his mind to the present, but it wouldn’t stop slipping.</p><p>“s-sorry… I… I'm so-rry…”</p><p>“Shhh, you’re ok, kiddo, it’s ok.” He just shook his head, chest constricting, choking on the air, it burned in his lungs and made him want to scream, just to relieve some of the pressure, but there wasn’t enough air.</p><p>“virgil. Can you tell me, five things you can see? Take your time.” Logan, crouched down a fair distance away, to give him space.</p><p>“Y-you… patton… R-roman… the… the couch and the… the… n-needle" his breath caught again, his panic flaring, eating him up.</p><p>“Alright, good, stay with me, Virgil. Four things you can feel.”</p><p>“Pa-tton. My hoodie… the fl-floor. B-andages?” he asked, realizing his arms were carefully wrapped in them.</p><p>“you hurt yourself. Nothing serious, it’s alright. Three things you can hear.” He managed a deep breath in, forcing air in and out to answer.</p><p>“Chirp/coo.” He said, smiling slightly at Patton's added little trill. “my h-eart, my voice.” He answered, focusing on the feeling of his hands against his hoodie, Patton's warmth against him.</p><p>“Excellent. Two things you can smell?”</p><p>“Metal… myself" he wrinkled his nose slightly, smelling his own sweat.</p><p>“Last one, one thing you can taste.” Logan's steady voice, and he thought for a moment.</p><p>“Copper.” He answered, looking up, finally, meeting Logan's eyes for a brief moment, before his gaze flicked to Roman, who stood frozen by the couch, scales half raised in alarm, but also… worry?</p><p>“Virgil. How are you feeling?” Logan asked, snapping him back to attention, realizing he’d started to drift. </p><p>“um. Sore. Achy. Tired.” He answered, head thumping back against the wall, hissing as it hurt more than expected.</p><p>“I was going to warn you about that. We found you fallen over, unconscious on the bathroom floor, bleeding from your head. You’ve been severely ill, and mostly fitfully unconscious, for nearly seven days.” Logan explained.</p><p>“Why didn’t you tell us you were so sick!?” Patton scolded, though his voice was gentle. </p><p>“i… I didn’t want to bother you. I’ve been sick before. It’s… its fine.”</p><p>“no, it isn’t. Virgil. You are severely underweight and malnourished and sleep deprived, all factors that compromise your immune system making it more difficult to fight off disease and you very nearly died because you seemingly cannot comprehend that you are an important member of this crew and we will gladly help if you just ask for it!” He flinched at Logan shouting, his hands clenched into fists. He’d never heard Logan raise his voice, didn’t even know he could, but his mind snagged on what Logan had just said, and he shook his head.</p><p>“I… but I’m not. Important. You’re…a family. I’m just a tag along, because you were basically guilted into taking me with. You don’t… want me, here, and that’s fine, I wouldn’t want me here either, so the least I can do is take up the least space and use the least stuff and make myself as little of a nuisance as possible because then maybe I’ll get to stay longer before you get sick of me and kick me off.” Usually he wouldn’t be this candid, but he was tired, and he felt floaty and not all there, his normal anxiety not holding him back. </p><p>“Virgil… that's not true.” Roman added, Virgil's bitter laugh echoing harshly through the space.</p><p>“Sure it isn’t. You’ve made it clear, what you think of me. And you know what? I’m terrified, constantly, that you might be right. Sooner or later I’m going to hurt someone. It’s… it’s the only thing I’m good at, hurting people. Sometimes I think I should just bail, just leave a note and run, before I hurt anyone. Before I ruin it all. Before I ruin this… this amazing little family, you guys have.”</p><p>His eyes slipped closed, against his will, exhaustion weighing him down, settling into his bones from the panic attacks. “I w-want it so badly, it h-urts sometimes, but I can’t… I know I can’t have it. Be part of it. Know I’ll just… just be in the way.” He mumbled, not even sure if he was speaking aloud, anymore.</p><p> </p><p>“Virg… we'll talk about this later, ok? Just… can you make it back to the couch? You need more sleep.” Patton asked, moving off his chest. He nodded, managing to peel his eyes open, stumble to his feet, collapsing face down on the couch before blacking out as soon as his head hit the cushions.<br/>…</p><p>“Well. His fever’s broken. There’s no point using these, any further.” Logan, trying to keep his voice steady as he packed up the IV line and supplies, considering hurling the needle out the airlock, just to spite the universe for forcing him to use it. </p><p>“I… I need to go. Think. About… things…” Roman poorly explained, darting from the room, as Patton sighed, feathers fluffing and resettling, worried gaze flicking between the doorway Roman had vanished down, Logan storing the medical supplies, and Virgil, face down on the couch. His forehead was a lot cooler, now, and his breathing finally seemed to be normal, deep, steady breaths. His eyes weren’t twitching in his sleep either, a good sign, Patton had learned early on that eye twitches meant bad dreams, nightmares. That was when he would curl up around Virgil’s head and churr softly, a low, rumbling vibration in his chest, that he used to soothe kits, but it also seemed to do the trick on the human. Most of the ampen soothing methods did, which he would have once considered odd, since they relied on empathy to work. But if anything, Virgil had too much empathy, his words playing back in Patton’s mind.</p><p>“He thinks we don’t care. We don’t… don’t consider him family, why would he… after everything, still think that?” Patton asked softly, looking up at Logan’s sigh. </p><p>“He’s been hurt, Patton. Deeply, psychologically, hurt. He’s so used to being in fight or flight mode, that is all his body knows how to do. His body, his mind, it doesn’t understand, can’t comprehend, safety. And after… after what he went through, how they demeaned him and treated him like a wild animal, like a… a specimen, it’s no wonder that he struggles to comprehend his own self worth, lacks any sense of self esteem or importance. He had to fight every day just to survive, just to keep you safe, and though I am thankful for it, it likely has contributed to his fear of himself. He knows how easily he could hurt any one of us.” </p><p>“He won’t though! He’d rather tear himself apart than hurt any of us.” Patton protested. </p><p>“I know, Patton. But he clearly doesn’t. He doesn’t take care of himself, he doesn’t trust himself, Patton, and until he starts doing that, understanding that he is wanted and loved and safe, I’m afraid he won’t take care of himself.” </p><p>“Then we’ll make sure he does. I will physically fight him.” Patton muttered, determination clear in every bristling feather, and Logan chuckled slightly, shaking his head. </p><p>“I would enjoy watching you take down a human, Patton, especially since Virgil would let you, but violence is not going to help in this situation.” </p><p>“Still. If he won’t take care of himself, I’m going to make him take care of himself.” He ruffled Patton’s head as he passed the couch, barely containing his smile at the small squeak the motion illicited, stopping at a small tug of his hand.</p><p>“Lo? Thank you. For getting him through.” He softened, looking back at Patton, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. </p><p>“Of course, Patton. Get some more sleep, now that he’s safe, won’t you?” Patton nodded, drawing away and circling a couple times before settling down curled around Virgil’s head, careful to keep a layer of blanket between them, so he wouldn’t accidentally siphon off energy in his sleep. Virgil needed all of it he could get.</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Roman works through his emotions with some help from Logan.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Roman was pacing. He was sure by now he was wearing holes in the floor, his scales up and rattling as he moved, vibrating with his frustration and conflicting thoughts, needing to burn off the extra nervous energy somehow. </p><p>Virgil’s bitter laughter was stuck in his head. The look on his face, so defeated and so devastated, so… sure, that what he was saying was true. He thought he was a waste of space, a nuisance, a… danger. And he was… right? Why did thinking that sound so bad, now, when it was what he’d been thinking all along? </p><p>Hadn’t he made it clear? He didn’t like Virgil, didn’t trust him, thought he was a danger and a threat and he hated leaving him to his own devices, hated him spending nights alone with Patton, hated knowing he could be lurking literally anywhere, how he slipped into shadows, how he could be totally undectable. If he’d had his way, they would have left Virgil on the planet they found Patton on, without a second glance. </p><p>So why did he feel so… guilty, hearing his own words thrown back in his face? That was how he felt, he’d never tried to hide it, but he wasn’t sure now that he was… right. </p><p>Because seeing Virgil sprawled on the bathroom floor, blood leaking from his head, seeing him curled on the floor, hyperventilating and clawing at himself, seeing him trapped in his own mind, in whatever horrors his brain had conjured, had shaken something within him, had broken his resolve to dislike and hate the human with all his might. </p><p>He had every reason, to hate humans, to distrust them, to not want them anywhere near his family. </p><p>But… but if Virgil were any other race, any other species, he wouldn’t hesitate to take Virgil under his wing, to protect him like one of his own, to swear him a life debt for protecting Patton, for saving him, for getting him out.</p><p>It wasn’t fair. </p><p>He… wasn’t being fair. </p><p>He jumped, at a knock on his door, taking a moment to take a deep breath, to settle his scales, before opening the door, not meeting Logan’s eyes. </p><p>“Hey, teach.” </p><p>“Roman… are you… alright?” He flinched at the question, tail swishing across the floor in agitation, considering trying to bluff his way out of this encounter, before letting out a long breath, slowly shaking his head, instead.</p><p>“No. I… don’t think I am.” He mumbled, drawing back from the doorway and sitting down on the floor, leaning against the wall and staring up at the ceiling. “I… it’s my fault, isn’t it? That he hid he was ill. He was right, about what I thought of him, but I don’t think that I was right, anymore. Does that make any sense?” He muttered the last question, feeling Logan settle into his chair, one hand tapping against the desk. </p><p>“It does. It was not your fault, not entirely, at least. Likely, your attitude did nothing to help his self esteem or self worth, and did lead to him isolating himself further, but he would likely be doing that anyways. It not a simple cause and effect, Roman. There are plenty of already underlying issues already in place.”</p><p>“those scars, Logan. What must they have done to him?” Logan shook his head, hands fidgeting mindlessly as he winced.</p><p>“They were harvesting him. Blood, Plasma, Adrenaline, other unique human biochemicals. It was much more… painful, physically, than what was done to me. And once they had drained him dry, they were going to sell him for parts." Roman growled, a sound so low and deep he could barely even hear him.</p><p>“Roman-"</p><p>“It’s barbaric, Logan. I know humans are supposed to be vicious monsters who care nothing for their own but… but that isn’t true! He has clan, Logan, he cried out for them. They took him and tortured him and it doesn’t matter, what species he is that isn’t right!” he yelled, shoving to his feet and starting to pace once more. “it isn’t right, and I haven’t been right, in how I’ve treated him, but it’s so hard, to look at him and not see-" he broke off, breath catching, scales flattening, almost halving his size, struggling for a long moment to shove away the memories.</p><p>“I understand, Roman. You have every reason to be angry and conflicted over his presence here, and I know it is hard to differentiate but you must realize, just like any species, not all humans are the same. He’d been through hell, and instead of it making him cold and cruel he protected Patton, to make sure the same wouldn’t happen to him. He is so focused on everyone else's wellbeing that he badly neglects his own.” He answered, watching Roman pace, tail swishing back and forth.</p><p>“what do I do, Logan? How… I don’t know how to stop, how to change what I feel, when I look at him, the fear that flashes through me every time he moves too fast, every time he steps towards Patton, steps towards you, I know he doesn’t mean to hurt anyone, but that doesn’t change that he could hurt everyone.”</p><p>“Stop solely vilifying him. Talk to him. Learn about him. Knowledge of something erases the fear of the unknown. If you can’t trust him, that’s understandable. But you can reach some sort of civil understanding, I'm sure.” Roman let out a soft snort of amusement.</p><p>“of course, your advice is to study. Not that you aren’t right, as always, teach.” Logan's hand did a small twirl, his sign for relief or content in his weaving. None of them could comprehend every movement meaning, no matter how often he tried to explain them all, but they knew the basic styles and attitudes of his motions. “thank you, Logan.” He mumbled, ducking his head, a sign of respect to elders, one he rarely used, rarely admitted to not knowing something or being wrong, but Logan deserved it. </p><p>“Thank you for listening. I’ll let you sort out your thoughts.” Logan murmured, brushing against Roman gently, purposefully lingering for a moment in the brief contact in support, as he slipped out the door, and down the hall to his own room. He would try to take his own advice to Patton and get some sleep, though he doubted it would come easily. There was too much, on his mind, his hands struggled to keep track of it all. </p><p>Perhaps he’d try and draw, for a bit. He was getting rather good at using two hands simultaneously, and it would give him something to focus on instead of dwelling on his own worries and concerns over Virgil. It would clear his mind, and allow him to try and organize his thoughts into some semblance of coherency, because he was going to have to convince Virgil that they didn’t just care out of guilt, that they wanted him to have a chance at an actual life, and he was sure that was a truth Virgil both didn’t want to face, and didn’t know how to comprehend. But he would have to. Because Logan was not going to let this downward spiral continue a moment longer. Not when it had very nearly cost Virgil his life.</p>
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<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Virgil has a talk with Patton and Logan.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He woke up slowly. It felt like swimming through a fog, his limbs heavy, and every part of him aching, but finally he managed to reach the surface and blink open his eyes, confused for a moment why it was so dark, before he registered the soft fabric pressing against his head. That’s right, he’d flopped face down onto the couch. Evidently, he’d been so out of it he hadn’t shifted at all in his sleep, which was… unusual. </p><p>Because usually his “sleep” wasn’t all that restful to begin with. </p><p>Then he registered the soft humming coming from the kitchen, and the tension he wasn’t even aware of having leaked out of his shoulders, his breath coming easier at the simple sound that broadcast Patton’s presence to the ship. He managed to sit up, yawning and stretching until his shoulders popped, feeling immensely better than he had been as he stood, shuffling his way into the kitchen, keeping a blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He tried to talk, but his voice came out as a dry croak. Still, that got Patton’s attention, who spun around, face lighting up, before creasing with worry. </p><p>“Kiddo? You ok?” He swallowed hard, clearing his throat, not managing to speak, instead instantly bursting into tears, Patton’s eyes going wide. “Virgil!” Patton chirped in alarm, pulling him into a seat at the table, hopping onto the table himself, to be at Virgil’s eye level, not that he could currently meet his eyes. Virgil’s arms were resting on the table, his head buried against them, shoulders shaking from the force of his sobs. He didn’t know what to do, besides run his little paws through Virgil’s hair, cooing softly. </p><p>“S-orry… I don’t kn-ow why… I’m f-f-fine….” Virgil gasped out, not even crying anymore, just fighting for air. </p><p>“you’re not fine. We all know you’re not fine, Virgil. It’s ok to be not ok.” He shakes his head, finally emerging from his arms, Patton stifling a trill of alarm at how dark and… and empty, Virgil’s eyes look. The same look Virgil had given him the first time the smugglers had returned him to the cell, right before he passed out, and it scared him. “please, Virgil. Just… whatever it is, let us help you.” Patton pleaded, reaching out slowly, wiping away his tears, pressing his fluffy little forehead against Virgil’s, nuzzling against him. </p><p>“Logan says you’re not eating enough.” He started gently. “Is that right?” Hesitantly, Virgil nodded. </p><p>“yeah.” He whispers.</p><p>“ok. Why is that, kiddo?” </p><p>“I don’t… I don’t want to waste your food, your supplies. I already take up so much space and I don’t… deserve it. I don’t do anything to deserve it. T-to deserve this. I’m used to n-not eating, anyways.” </p><p>“And you aren’t sleeping enough?”  </p><p>“I can’t. I… I can’t, I close my eyes, and I’m right back there, I’m there and it’s so real, and I can’t stop myself, and I h-hurt-“ He breaks off, shaking. “I hurt you. And if it’s a night you’re not w-with me, I can’t r-rest until I see you, because I know it isn’t but it feels so real, I h-have to make sure it isn’t r-real.” </p><p>“How much are you supposed to sleep and eat, in a day, Virg?” Patton asked softly, and he drew away, running his hands through his hair with a heavy sigh, leaning back and staring up at the ceiling. </p><p>“Supposed to get at least eight hours of sleep a night. And… eating probably four times what I am now. But I’m usually too anxious to eat, anyway. It just… just comes back up.” Patton made a small clicking noise, that meant worry, and Virgil flinched. “I’m sorry.” Patton shook his head, resting a hand on Virgil's arm.</p><p>“there’s nothing to be sorry for. I wish you’d told us sooner, before it got this bad, but I understand why you didn’t. I know how hard it is, to trust us with information about yourself. I know you worry, what we could do with it, do to you. And none of us fault you for it, honey.” Virgil looked to be on the edge of tears again, as he looked back down at Patton before looking away once more.</p><p>“I want to. I… just… I’m scared, Patton.” Patton's heart broke a little at how small Virgil sounded, his voice wavering.</p><p>“I know, Virg-"</p><p>“no, I… I'm scared because I… I still keep thinking… I… what if this isn’t real? It’s all… all just part of a new game, their last hoorah before…” He took a deep breath, shaking his head. “I know it doesn’t make sense, but I can’t stop… it’s just… like this is a dream and when I wake up, it’ll be on the table, or-.” He whispered, cutting himself off, though clearly what hadn’t been said was the worst of the possibilities, based on his face. Patton ruffled his feathers. He didn’t know what to say, what to do, how to help Virgil, and he didn’t have time, right now, to focus on whatever the human wasn’t telling him.</p><p>“I’m scared too, sometimes. It’s… it’s easier for me, cause I’ve known Logan and Roman so long, and I have you, too. I feel safe, with all of you around. But… but sometimes I can still feel their hands on my feathers, I can hear them, I need the light on, to sleep, otherwise I panic and forget where I am.”</p><p>“patton… why didn’t you say?”</p><p>“Because you have enough on your shoulders, and I have Logan and Roman to help carry the burden on my mine. You don’t need to go through this alone, Virgil. We all will help. We all want to. You just have to start letting us. Start… talking, to us, and stop trying to pretend that everything is ok, because it isn’t. Nothing is, nothing about what happened to you, or me, is ok. Do you understand that, Virgil?” Virgil's breath hitched, and his gaze stared firmly at the floor, refusing to answer. “virgil. You didn't deserve it. You know that, right?” He tried again, voice a squeak as Virgil again refused to look at him.</p><p>“I must have. I… why me, then? If I didn’t deserve it then…” Patton practically vibrated with indignant rage, stomping his foot in frustration, making Virgil jerk, startled eyes finally meeting his.</p><p>“You will not bad talk yourself on this ship, mister! You are kind and compassionate and wonderful! And sometimes the universe is just… just… fucked!” Virgil's eyes widened at Patton swearing, using an earth curse word he'd muttered a couple times and had to, red faced, explain to him. “sometimes it’s just random and bad things happen to good people. And you’re a good people, Virgil. You’re one of the best people.” And Virgil was crying again, silent tears dripping down his face, and then he was folding over from the force of them, huddled into a ball on the chair, breaking again for an entirely different reason, because for the first time he was letting himself start to believe that what had happened wasn’t entirely his fault, his tears only growing as Patton stayed, though he couldn’t shake the shame and disgust at himself that coiled in his gut, because if Patton knew, if they knew what he’d had to do to survive, there was no way they would ever trust him. And he knew, he was going to have to tell them, or the guilt would eat him alive.<br/>…<br/>Logan was surprised, to hear voices coming from the kitchen. It was nearing the night cycle, and he’d realized he hadn’t eaten much of anything, all day, any kind of meal schedule having fallen apart with the recent ocurrances, and he hadn’t heard Roman come out of his room, yet. </p><p>He stopped when he rounded the corner, freezing for a moment, before tucking his arms carefully behind him, having promised Virgil he would only mind weave in his presence if given permission, as it unsettled him to have information about himself recorded. </p><p>Because that was, Virgil, sitting at the kitchen island, a softly steaming mug held lightly between his hands, a slight upturn to his lips as Patton chattered about everything and nothing in particular, just filling the air with words and chirps, though Virgil seemed to be following easily, having no trouble understanding the occasional words in Patton’s native tongue. He noticed, too, a plate set aside, that looked to have the remains of toast with jam and a more than half empty bowl of porridge, which is more than Virgil usually ate at a meal, in an entire day, sometimes. Especially important since he was already weakened from his illness and still very much recovering. Then he gently cleared his throat, making his presence known, not missing how Virgil flinched, jerking to look his way, relaxing mostly, not completely, upon realizing who it was. </p><p>“Virgil. It is a relief to see you up and about. I’m also glad to see Patton coaxed you into eating a decent amount.” Virgil’s cheeks reddened slightly at that, a human sign of embarrassment, and internally, Logan winced. He hadn’t meant to offend, and he couldn’t afford to lose progress. </p><p>“yeah. He’s, um, going to help. Try and get me on a normal diet, I guess. You were right, about the not eating enough or getting enough nutrient, thing. So.” Virgil shrugged, face still red, though he didn’t seem upset, and Logan relaxed. </p><p>“That is good. If you don’t mind, I would like to ask you about your normal diet back on earth, so I know better what nutrients, exactly, you’ve been lacking and the best way to go about reintroducing you to stable meals. We will have to go slowly, too much food or too much richness will only make you sick, at first.” Virgil nodded. </p><p>“I know. We learned a little about it, health and nutrition and stuff, in school. The food pyramid and all that.” Logan’s brow creased and he tilted his head, thinking. </p><p>“I am unclear what stacking food into a tower has to do with proper calorie intake.” Virgil huffed, amusement crinkling his eyes, and Logan relaxed further, chancing a small smile back. The action still felt unnatural, like he was threatening a friend, but Virgil’s own upturn of the lips banished that thought quickly. </p><p>“The… the sleep, thing, might be a problem, though. I… I don’t know how to fix that.” Virgil mumbled. </p><p>“Well, we can start with what the problem is.” </p><p>“Nightmares. Vivid ones.” Patton answered for Virgil, who had paled slightly at the mere mention of ‘problem’.</p><p>“I see. Nightmares, which are the result of your years of trauma and abuse. Do they center on any particular thing?” Virgil paled further, and Logan could see his breath coming in slightly faster gasps. “You do not need to answer, Virgil. I understand it is difficult.” Virgil took a few deep breaths in and out, though his hands gripped the edge of the table hard. </p><p>“It’s ok. I just…” Virgil glanced at Patton, then away, fast enough he almost missed it, and his brow furrowed further. Patton was the one Virgil was understandably the most at ease and trusting with, if it was something he didn’t wish to discuss in front of Patton… it must be deeply unpleasant, and something the ampen didn’t already know, or he wouldn’t be so afraid to share it. </p><p>“Patton. Can you check on Roman? He could use your emotional intelligence right now.” Patton looked at him in confusion at the abrupt change of topic, before looking back to Virgil, who sighed, smiling softly.</p><p>“It’s ok. Go see him.” Patton hesitated, but finally relented, giving Virgil a quick hug before letting him set him on the floor, stopping beside Logan. </p><p>“be careful with him. I just started getting through, Lo.” Patton pleaded softly, and Logan nodded. </p><p>“I promise, Patton.” He waited until Patton had vanished down the hall, before turning his attention back to Virgil, noticing how he had hunched in on himself slightly, shoulders tense, as if waiting for an impending strike. Carefully, he slid into the seat opposite the human, examining him with worry, though he looked better than he had.</p><p>“Virgil? What is it?” He asked softly, after a few long moments of silence. Virgil took a deep, shuddering breath.</p><p>“There's… something else. That i… it wasn’t just…” he took another deep breath, and Logan hesitantly rested a hand lightly atop Virgil's, making sure he knew he could pull away. He didn’t, instead looking up at him, though his hair nearly obscured his eyes. </p><p>“it’s bad, lo… I can’t…”</p><p>“It’s ok, Virgil. Take your time.”</p><p>“I can show you. It’s… I can’t… it hurts.” Virgil whispered, and he could see his eyes glazing over, could see Virgil slipping away. He squeezed his hand lightly, trying to help center him. He only took a moment to decide, knowing whatever it was wouldn’t be pleasant, but he needed to know if he wanted to help, and he was prepared, this time, he could steel himself against it.</p><p>“Alright. Show me.” He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in and out, initiating the Vidi.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Vidi and the aftermath</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>get ready for the whumpage</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He’s shoved through a door, light blinding him for a moment. Smooth, high walls, hard concrete floor, far above out of reach an observation deck.</p><p>On the other side is Vacian, sharp clawed, bat winged, fangs bared, taloned feet set in a fighting stance, an angry hiss emanating. He tries to scramble back, to force open the door, to get out, but it won’t, and then the alien takes to the air and swoops, and he barely manages to roll out of the way, a claw digging into his shoulder. </p><p>He tries to stop it, to stutter out an explanation, a truce, no harm, but the being doesn’t care, and when it swoops again it pins him, claws digging into his shoulders, his thighs, and he writhes in pain, finally managing to flip the alien over, underneath him, and before he knows it the being's neck is snapped, easy, too easy, and he’s sick, looking at the broken form, not struggling as his captors come in, dragging him away, back to his cell.</p><p>That was the first time.</p><p>Flashes, increasingly quick coming flashes, different beings, different races, broken limbs, torn flesh, blood of every hue splattered across the ground, fear and Adrenaline pounding through his ears and every time he tries to explain, to soothe, to get them to stop, please, he doesn’t want to hurt them, and every time they don’t listen and it sickens him and he hates himself and then…<br/>And then it’s Patton, standing across from him.</p><p>It’s Logan.</p><p>It's Roman.</p><p>Patton, fear in his eyes, no recognition, scrabbling against the door desperately trilling and crying and calling for his ship mates.</p><p>Logan, frozen in fear, hands spinning as they try to catalogue what is happening, to find a weakness, to find something he can leverage to his advantage.</p><p>Roman, snarling, scales raised like a wolf's hackles, teeth bared in a snarling grimace, claws gleaming in the light, tail barely twitching in concentration before he charges.</p><p>Virgil's hands against Patton's throat, Virgil's arms holding down Logan, Virgil covered in scratches, Roman's broken and bloody body on the ground before him.</p><p>He stumbles back, chest heaving, he's done this, he's done this to them, he should have tried harder should have gotten through to them, monster, Monster, MONSTER-</p><p>Logan jerked his hand away, cutting off the flow of images, the flow of thought, hands trembling as he tried to sort the emotions and images, tried to categorize the here and now from the then and there, then the real from the imagined. It took a few long moments before he felt steady enough, to look up at Virgil, who was even worse.</p><p>His face was sheet white, he was shaking so hard he was practically vibrating, eyes distant and broken, arms hugging himself, nails digging into his arms hard enough Logan could see red leaking through the bandages.</p><p>“Virgil-" before he could get out another word, Virgil was gone, slipped out of the chair and silently fleeing down the hall, though he didn’t hear the sound of his door closing, meaning he was hiding elsewhere, and would be nigh on impossible to find, until he wanted to be found.<br/>…<br/>“Logan, what did I say!?” Patton shouted, loud enough Roman heard it from his room. He frowned, peeking out the door, heading that way.</p><p>“To be careful with him.” And Logan sounded exhausted, deflated, making him pause. “I tried Patton. He needed to show me something, and he did.”</p><p>“What was it?” Logan stayed silent. “Logan. What was it?!” patton demanded. </p><p>“He didn’t give me permission to say, Patton, and I won’t break that trust.”</p><p>“And whatever it was, was bad enough he ran off in a panic! I need to help him!”</p><p>“I am already assisting him-"</p><p>“You just made it worse!” Patton yelled, the silence after so loud it was ringing. </p><p>“Patton-"</p><p>“don’t.  I’m going to find him.” Patton stormed out of the room, feathers bristling with rage, and a barely contained fear, brushing right past him without acknowledging his presence. It was rare to see their smallest companion in such a mood, but an angry Patton was nothing to be trifled with. Still, his rage ran bright and hot, burning itself out quickly. He had no doubt by morning Patton would be apologizing.</p><p>He knocked lightly on Logan's still open door before peeking in, Logan frozen in place, jumping slightly at his appearance. </p><p>“Roman. How…” Logan cleared his throat. “how can I help you?” Roman moved closer, eyes soft.</p><p>“I heard, Logan. What… what happened?” </p><p>“A vidi. It… explained a lot. About his jumpiness, and near obsessively compulsive fear of hurting one of us. And after… he ran. And Patton is angry, but more than that, afraid, because he ran.”</p><p>“And you? How are you, Logan?” He asked gently, somewhat alarmed as Logan's eyes began to well with tears. </p><p>“it was awful, roman. It… he’s so… so sc-scared… it was…” Roman was even more alarmed at Logan's distress, hesitantly offering his arms, surprised as Logan practically flung himself into them, silent tears tracking down his face. It hurt to see Logan falling apart like this, but it hurt more to know that what Logan was really feeling was Virgil's pain and trauma from whatever they'd shared in the vidi. Logan had been through a lot, as well. If whatever Virgil had experienced, had felt, was still feeling, was enough to make his usually stoic and level headed companion fall to pieces, it must be impossibly unbearable. </p><p>Which begged the question, how in the universe was Virgil managing to function at all, while keeping all this turmoil concealed?</p><p>…<br/>He was still shaking. </p><p>He’d heard Patton calling for him, of course, he had been for a while now, he wasn’t sure how long, he’d lost sense of time a while ago, though he seemed to have moved on to a different part of the ship, now, he couldn’t hear him anymore. </p><p>He hadn’t bothered to register where he was, either, until now, looking around, it was the same hall, same cabinet, he’d hid on top of after the whole ‘logan is a scientist’ debacle. At least he had a blanket this time, it had still been around his shoulders when he fled, and it was currently pulled tight around him, just like his hoodie, pulled so tight he could barely see out of it, tension thrumming through every pore. </p><p>He knew he’d probably overreacted, running like that. He knew that the vidi translated thoughts and feelings as well as the pure information of what was happening in the moment, but some part of him, a big part of him, warned that now they knew. Now they knew what he’d done, what he was, the word monster ringing in his ears over and over, the blood staining his hands, the sickening crunch of bone in his ears, and it was all over. Everything he had here, surely it was all over. </p><p>‘murderer.’ His mind whispered, and he flinched back, shaking his head, pulling the blanket tighter. </p><p>“I didn’t want to… I didn’t mean t-to…” </p><p>‘but you still did. You still killed them so you would live. How selfish, is that? Didn’t you want it to be over, anyway? Didn’t you want to just be finished?’ that dark voice in his head taunted. </p><p>“n-n-no I h-had Patton. I h-had to protect P-patton!” </p><p>‘the arena started long before Patton was ever there. You’re a coward. You couldn’t even let yourself die. Instead you ripped and tore and bit like the animal you are. Like the monster you are. Like the human deathworlder beast you are!’ </p><p>He was shaking, as he curled into a ball, head pressed to his knees, hands covering his ears, as if that could block out the screams, the cries, the screeches, the gurgling, choking inhale of a being’s last breath, the fear, pain, panic, as they lay dying, the glassy eyes when it was instant, the pain when it wasn’t, the blood, the blood, the blood-</p><p>“virgil?” His eyes snapped up at that soft voice, freezing as he met Roman’s eyes, which were softer than he expected, free for once from the perpetual suscpicion and distaste, which made him curl tighter, because he deserved that look, he deserved to be hated and feared and shoved away, why now, when he deserved it least, would Roman let down his guard? </p><p>A slightly hysterical laugh bubbled past his lips, though it came out as more of a gasping sob. </p><p>“it’s ok, I’m not going to hurt you.” Another laugh escaped at that, because he wished Roman would. He wished he could put a name to his hurt, he wished there was something physically wrong he could point to and say there, that’s what’s causing the problem, that’s what hurts, but there wasn’t. There was just him, and his fucked up head, and the blood on his hands, and how many of them, had been torn away from their families, too? How many of them had crewmates looking for them? How many of them had loved ones, putting up posters, searching the galaxies, praying somehow in the vastness of space they would find each other, how many, how many, how many!? </p><p>“virgil. Come down. Please.” He didn’t want to, he really didn’t, but his body moved on autopilot, doing what it was told, half hoping Roman would skewer him then and there and it would be over. He landed with a soft thump, staring down at the ground, as he heard Roman come just a bit closer. “it’s ok.” Roman said softly, and he shook his head. </p><p>“it isn’t. D-did Logan t-tell y-you?” </p><p>“He told me the broad idea of it. That you were forced to hurt others, or be hurt yourself. And that you despised it, hated it, that it’s a large part of why you’re so afraid of hurting us, so afraid of everything around you.” He shook his head again, shaking so violently he was surprised his legs didn’t give out. </p><p>“I ki-killed th-them. So m-many, I… st-ill see them, h-hear them, I’m a murderer, I’m a m-monster, I-“ </p><p>“no you aren’t. a murderer chooses to kill, Virgil. You didn’t have a choice. A monster doesn’t care what chaos or havoc they wreak, who they hurt, and you do. You’re a survivalist, Virgil. You did what you had to, to stay alive, in the hope that one day you wouldn’t have to do it anymore. And you don’t. You don’t have to do it anymore. No one is mad, or scared, or angry. Nothing… this doesn’t change the decision to have you here, as long as you want to stay. Now, come on, pup. Let’s get you to sleep.” He was too tired, too worn down and empty and drawn to argue, so he let Roman reach out and gently tug on his sleeve, pulling him into motion. </p><p>He didn’t protest or make a sound as Roman settled him in one of the sleeping pods with soft bedding instead of the closet he would usually sleep in. He didn’t move when Roman made a kind of blanket fort over the pod, reminding him of a cozy den, dark and warm and safe. He didn’t question or protest when Roman climbed in also, and settled in beside him, curling his tail around Virgil, nearly encircling him in his smooth, surprisingly warm, scales. He finally moved, slightly, curling tighter around himself, so small Roman really did encircle him completely now, pressing against the soft underbelly of Roman with a small whimper. </p><p>“oh, pup. I know, it’s hard, I know. But you’ll be ok. Everything will be ok.” He promised, resting his head atop Virgil’s, surprised as the human nuzzled against him, before carefully letting his arms pull him close and hold him tight. </p><p>This was insane. He was insane. He had a deathworlder, sleeping, in his bed, with him. But after Virgil’s breakdown, after Logan’s revelations, it was clear that Virgil was already punishing himself enough, for something he had no control over. And Roman had decided, it was time he stop doing the same.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Local puff ball has a rough night and the human dissociates</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Patton was miserable. </p><p>He’d called and searched all over the ship for nearly half the night without finding any trace of Virgil anywhere. He’d yelled at Logan, who he knew was doing his best, and he knew Logan had been right not to tell him, he knew Virgil didn’t want him to know whatever it was, and he knew it wasn’t Logan's fault that he was so… so… angry.</p><p>Because he was! He was furious, he was enraged, he was tired, but it hadn’t dulled the upset coursing through him, his feathers bristled and fluffed to their fullest extent, and he’d taken it out on his friend. </p><p>He wasn’t mad at Logan. He was mad at the people who had done this to Virgil, he was mad that they’d broken him so badly, he was mad that Virgil couldn’t seem to feel safe no matter what they did, he was mad at the universe in general for letting this happen to someone who was so kind and he was mad at himself, for lashing out because he was mad. He was mad he was mad, and it all made him a miserable fluffed up mess.</p><p>Which is why he was now on the counter, boiling water to make hot chocolate though his hands shook and his vision was blurred with tears but he needed to do something, and this was what he could manage, at the moment.</p><p>He pulled the kettle before the whistle went off, so it wouldn’t wake or disturb anyone, pouring it into his mug with three scoops of the mix, stirring it quickly and splattering a few drops on the counter, which made more tears well, and he was sniffling now, as he tried to lift it to take a sip, but his hands were shaking so hard, with a small yelp it fell from his hands, off the counter, shattering across the floor, sending dark liquid splashing across the kitchen.</p><p>That was the last straw.</p><p>It all broke loose, and he was sobbing, softly keening, really, because he just couldn’t do anything right today, could he? </p><p>He couldn’t be there for Virgil, he pushed away Logan, he hadn’t even checked in with Roman today, and now he couldn’t even do this simple little task for himself, he just made a mess of everything, he broke everything!</p><p>“Patton! Are you…” Logan trailed off, taking in the scene. He’d heard the crash, heard the soft wail, and he’d instantly feared the worst.</p><p>He hadn’t expected Patton, balled up on the counter, shattered ceramic and splashes of liquid. For a moment he thought it was blood, and his heart rate skyrocketed, before he registered the scent, realized it was chocolate. </p><p>He approached carefully, grabbing a broom from one of the cupboards, sweeping up the shards, throwing down a few towels to sop up the liquid with his other two arms, before finally addressing Patton.</p><p>“patton… what's wrong?” he asked softly.</p><p>“I’m s-sorry. I y-yelled at y-ou and i-it wasn't y-our fault, and you do s-so m-much and I d-didn't me-an it…” Patton rambled, stuttering out between gasping sobs. </p><p>“oh, Patton. It’s ok. I know, I'm not upset.” Patton let out a low, churruping hiccup, and Logan gently scooped him up into his arms, cradling him rather like a baby with two, gently stroking through his feathers with the third, slowly rocking him. </p><p>“I'm s-sorry I'm a m-esss and I h-urt you and I j-ust wa-nt to help but I ca-n't seem to be what a-anyone n-eeds.” </p><p>“patton, patton, patton, no. You’re just enough. I understand why you were upset with me, and I understand it was because you were worried, and I forgive you.” The feathers shifted, and Patton's head appeared from the fluff, eyes wide and watery, and Logan could feel him trembling. </p><p>“b-but-"</p><p>“no buts, Patton. Now, may I show you something?” he asked, and Patton swallowed hard, nodding.</p><p>He made his way down the hall, carefully silent as he peeked Roman's door open. “look.” He whispered.</p><p>At first, Patton couldn’t tell what he was supposed to see, it was just Roman, who had made a little fort over the pod as he often did to emulate a dark cave. Then the lump that he’d taken to be a pile of blankets moved, and he had to repress his squeal.</p><p>Virgil. It was Virgil. Roman was curled all the way around him, and the human was practically melted into the Crav'on, face pressed against Roman, hands against his scales, Roman's arms around the human in an extra layer of safety. </p><p>Logan slowly eased the door shut, heading back into his own. </p><p>“I checked in on him two hours ago, to ask if he’d seen or heard Virgil. I found them like that, already asleep. I think they’re going to be fine, Pat.” He said kindly, gently running another hand over his feather's, as he started sniffling again.</p><p>“sorry, sorry, it’s… it’s ok, it’s relief.” He managed, in response to Logan's worry, nuzzling against his chin. </p><p>“Good. Do you think you can get some rest, then? You’ve been exhausting yourself." As if in response, Patton yawned hugely, roosting. </p><p>“yeah. Can I stay?” Patton asked smally, and Logan hummed in amusement.</p><p>“of course. You can make a nest, while i get changed.” He murmured, letting Patton down in the sleeping pod, chuckling as the sleepy ampen gathered up the blankets and arranged them just so, before climbing in, between the layers, yawning once more, whining for Logan to hurry up and come snuggle, making him laugh more. </p><p>“Alright, I’m here, silly.” He mumbled, not realizing how tired he himself was until he was lying in bed, Patton instantly tucked against his side, shoving himself under one arm and butting against him.</p><p>“thanks, Lo. For being the best. I love you.” Patton mumbled, already halfway asleep, practically purring as Logan once again began gently teasing through his feathers. </p><p>“I love you too, Patton. And I missed you so, so much.” He whispered, resting his head atop Patton's, feeling the ampen's happy coo at the closeness, before his own eyes fluttered shut and sleep took him, as well.<br/>…<br/>Roman was gone when he woke up.</p><p>It took him several confused seconds to place where he was, wondering if the night before had just been an insane fever dream, before realizing he was still in the blanket fort. </p><p>He'd slept very late. It was rare he slept at all, only barely getting even eight hours when he had Patton, but in the tent of blankets he’d felt relaxed and almost… almost safe.</p><p>But now the worry and fear were starting to gnaw at him again, remembering why he was so distraught in the first place, and just the thought was enough to almost make him curl back up and pretend he’d never awoken in the first place.</p><p>But he had to face it sooner or later. Imagining just made it worse, and Roman had said Logan had told him the basics, but that couldn’t be right, because Roman had said no one blamed him. How could they not?</p><p>He forced a few deep breaths in and out, before climbing out of the blanket burrow, scrubbing away the dried remains of his tears, before slinking out into the hall. For once, he was praying to god Patton was nowhere to be found, he couldn’t face him right now, not with the memories still dancing at the edges of his mind. </p><p>He was numb, as he entered the living space, already halfway to a panic attack, really, relieved for once to see only Roman in the kitchen. Usually being alone with the Crav'on set him on edge, because Roman was always so on edge, but he didn’t care right now, as he simply flopped onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling.</p><p>“eat something?” Roman's voice, unusually soft, and he nods absently. “anything in particular?” he shakes his head.</p><p>He doesn’t realize time had passed, but it must have, because suddenly there's an empty plate in front of him, crumbs on his lap, and Roman is sitting across from him, looking at him with something unreadable, and he looks away, already feeling that cloud start to slip back over his mind, blurring out the world to nothing.</p><p>“Virgil-"</p><p>“it could have been you. Or Logan. Or Pat. And I would have killed you. I wouldn’t have even known you. I don’t even know their species, most of the time, I just know their faces. And not really that, even. I know how they looked afraid. Fierce. Dead. I don’t know their names, their home planets, if they have family, I don’t know their favorite colors or foods or season. But I know what color their blood is, on my hands." His voice wasn’t shaking or tired, just… empty. Any emotion seemed to slip away as soon as he felt it, he couldn’t hold onto it, leaving him disconnected. “I keep thinking it could have been any of you and I would have killed you. They were taken too. Had families, friends, looking for them. But they'll never be found. And it’s my fault.” He felt a flip of nausea in his stomach, and had to fight to keep down whatever he’d eaten for a moment, the disgust and loathing was so strong, before it waned once more. </p><p>“Virgil. You didn’t have a choice then. That wasn’t you, that was them. <br/>What was you, was when they threw Patton into your cell. You could have killed him, no one would have known. If that was you, you would have. Instead, you protected him, tooth and nail, you protected him. When given the chance to be yourself, you chose to be kind. That's what counts, Virgil. Not what they did. What you chose.” </p><p>He doesn’t answer. He stares blankly down at his lap. Roman is wrong. He's wrong, but nothing he says will convince Roman of it, because somehow, Roman has done a full 180 on his opinion and now will not let him be. </p><p>He's broken. He’s broken in ways he doesn’t even understand, and it doesn’t matter, this distinction between forced to and chose to, between them and him, because he still did those things. He still killed those beings. Their blood is still on his hands, no matter how hard he scrubs. </p><p>There are 14 little crumbs on his lap. There are eight planets (nine, he thinks, Pluto for life) in his home solar system. There are 7 billion people on earth. And somewhere between nine and fourteen and seven billion is the number of lives extinguished like so many little candles, stars going dark, leaving black holes rifted through the galaxies that eat away at whoever was left. That chip away at his own reserves of fortitude. </p><p>Sometimes he’s surprised, that he still feels anything at all. That he still moves, breaths, speaks. He felt like a marionette who's strings had long ago been cut, and he's on his last weak thread. </p><p>“l. Virgil.” He blinked. Roman was closer now, sitting next to him. He’d been across from him, hadn’t he? He didn’t know. He couldn’t seem to remember, the world was blurring, thoughts and emotions slipping away as fast as they came. He couldn’t hold onto the present.</p><p>“Virgil. I have met monsters. I have met monsters who are human. You are not one of them. I don’t believe you could ever be one of them.” Roman's voice is so soft, but it somehow is so loud in his ears, ringing through them. He doesn’t have it in him to be relieved or surprised or even to care, really, despite the warmth in Roman's eyes, his scales smooth and flat, in a way he'd never really seen before. Usually Roman was bristling so much he looked like a porcupine. </p><p>Time must have passed again. He doesn’t know how much. He doesn’t know when, but there are scales against his cheek. They’re smooth, and warm, and remind him of a bearded dragon, but a little less leathery and a little more solid. He can feel Roman running a hand in circles against his back. He's also vibrating with a low, barely audible hum, that reverbs in his own chest like amps pumping bass too loud at a concert. </p><p>It’s soothing. It pulls him to the surface of the numbness that is his being. He felt like he was drowning in nothing in particular, but also everything entirely. Why was it all so big? Why did everything have to be so big, when he was so small? His feelings, his memories, his past, his future, hell, his now, surrounded by space, it was too… big. </p><p>He wanted to be here. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be home, with his dog, his family, his friends. He didn’t want to be anywhere else. He didn’t know what he wanted, what he should want, he didn’t want this. He needed this.</p><p>“why… am I… here? Why…” he managed, a mere rasping whisper that tore at his throat. </p><p>“You have earned it. Every day you held onto yourself, on that ship, you earned this.” </p><p>“no I… why am I still… why me? Why take me? Why am I still a-alive? Why not some other h-human, why not some other b-eing making it out, why… why am I still here?!” He cried out, hands balling into his hoodie, emotion finally managing to crest over him, drown him in the tide of everything, for a single moment, before being washed away, empty tears falling from his eyes. </p><p>“I don’t know. I don’t know, Virg, but I’m… I’m glad, you made it. I’m glad to have met you, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry it was you.”</p><p>They fell into silence. He blinked, and time had passed.</p><p>Roman was gone, Logan now sitting across from him, reading something intently, Patton sitting beside him, fluffed against him, a tiny hand atop his. He wanted to say something, but couldn’t seem to summon the focus necessary.</p><p>A blink and he was in his room, carefully tucked into his sleeping pod, though a blanket fort similar to Roman's had been erected around it, giving it a cozy, safe vibe. He realized Patton was curled around his head, humming softly, his familiar blue glow easing away the last of his worries as his eyes finally slipped closed.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Virgil finally starts to believe what the others are saying.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I had so much fun writing this, and I'm both so satisfied with the ending and so sad I finished it finally.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“he's asleep, I think.” Patton called softly from the room, looking up at his two shipmates hovering in the doorway, his own tired worry evident on their faces.</p><p>“Good. I think after some more sleep will do him good. Hopefully it will be enough to bring him back to us.” Logan murmured, watching Virgil’s chest rise up and down in an even rhytm. </p><p>It had been… disquieting. He and Patton had woken up late, and Roman had already been on the couch, Virgil curled up against his chest, his eyes open, but empty, unresponsive to both his and Patton’s soft good morning’s. He’d remained fairly unresponsive for the entire day, though there were brief moments of lucidity and clarity, an occasional flicker where he knew Virgil was seeing what was going on, but they were gone too fast for any meaningful conversation. He didn’t seem to be experiencing any flashbacks, which Logan was thankful for, his mind just seemed to be aimlessly drifting.</p><p>It was something they had experience with. Slipping into a dissociative state, to deal with trauma or escape stressful situations. It hadn’t happened to Logan in years, and Roman in maybe a little over two, though certainly it had been years since Roman had had an episode as extreme as Virgil was displaying. </p><p>Another small blessing was that he seemed comfortable with their presence. He wasn’t afraid of them, he was aware enough, or out of it enough, that he wasn’t afraid of being harmed, that he trusted Roman to hold him without flinching away and exacerbating his state, which in itself spoke volumes. He didn’t know exactly what had transpired between the two, but it had clearly led to a drastic change in their dynamic, one he knew both he and Patton were grateful for. Roman was a “ride or die” friend, as Patton had explained the human slang to him, and Virgil needed someone like that, who would so readily jump to his defense. </p><p>They had tried to gently coax Virgil back to the present, speaking softly to him, conversing with him even though he didn’t respond to their inane questions, offering gentle contact, rubbing circles over his knuckles, playing with his hair, and though he did seem to relax into the touch, he didn’t outright respond to it. </p><p>Still, they had continued speaking softly throughout the day, making sure one of them was near Virgil at all times just in case his state worsened into something more akin to a flashback or panic attack, careful to make no loud, startling noises, to try and keep everything as calm and safe feeling as possible, which seemed to work, at least, he hadn’t slipped into a panic attack at any point. Simply continued to stare quietly into the distance, lost somewhere in the ether. And now he was finally sound asleep, Patton curled around him. </p><p>“What if it doesn’t, Lo? What if he’s still gone tomorrow?” Patton asked, running his fingers through Virgil’s hair. Logan sighed, arms folded behind him. </p><p>“Then we will try using stimulation to bring him out of it. But I am fairly confident that he will be alright on his own.” Logan answered, and Roman nodded. </p><p>“He’ll be ok, Pat. We’ll all make sure of it.” <br/>…<br/>He woke up in his own bed, this time, feeling surprisingly well rested and awake. He frowned, realizing he had very little memory of the day before, just a few vague flashes of the others sitting near him, talking softly. And… and a few moments with Roman. </p><p>“Virgil. I have met monsters. I have met monsters who are human. You are not one of them. I don’t believe you could ever be one of them.” Roman's words rang through his head again, and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in and out. He was unable to force himself to believe Roman hadn’t meant it, after everything else he’d said. It was unlikely Roman would have said it if he didn’t really mean it, anyways. </p><p>It… he didn’t know, what to make of it. So he ignored it, for the moment, getting up and getting dressed, exiting his room within a few minutes, making his way to the kitchen. He mumbled a good morning to Patton and Roman, who were sitting on the couch together, grabbing the kettle which was still filled with warm water, pouring it into a cup before adding a tea bag, and making some toast, using some of the jam, careful to avoid Logan’s favorite flavor. He’d been assured countless times he could use anything he liked, but he still shied away from using what he knew the others would. It took several long moments of him munching on toast and blowing on his tea for him to realize the low chattering in the living room had stopped, and both Roman and Patton were staring at him. </p><p>“…what?” He asked, shoulders hunching, instantly on guard, relaxing slightly as Patton immediately let out a soft coo/trill, their old “all clear/everything ok” sign from when they’d been camping out on alien planets. </p><p>“It is just good to see you back to your normal self, Virgil. You were not… with us, for most of yesterday. It caused us some concern.” Logan, who entered from the other hallway, the navigation area of the ship. He shrugged, looking down into his mug. </p><p>“yeah, I… know. I remember some of it.” He mumbled, eyes flicking to Roman for a moment, before flicking away faster than Roman could read his expression. “I… know I just kinda freaked out, on you guys. I know… you probably have… questions. And I think I… I wanna answer them. It. Maybe then it’ll be easier. I don’t know, I just…” He shrugged helplessly, grip tightening on the mug slightly, trying to keep his breathing even. </p><p>“Virgil. You do not have to expand on anything you are not comfortable with.” Logan said, hovering against the back of the couch, because he knew what Virgil was talking about. </p><p>“I know.” He whispered instead, briefly meeting each of their eyes before looking away again. “I know. But I… need to.” </p><p>“Ok kiddo. That’s ok.” Patton, who patted the seat beside him and Roman. Virgil settled in the chair opposite them instead, eyes glued to slightly swirling liquid in his mug. </p><p>“what is it, Virg?” Roman broke the silence, and he took a deep breath in and out. </p><p>“I didn’t know, what they wanted, the first time. I still don’t… it must have been one of their tests. I don’t know. I didn’t want to, I never tried to. It just… would just happen.” </p><p>“What are you talking about, Virg?” Patton asked again softly, and he squeezed his eyes shut. </p><p>“the arena.” Just saying the name was enough to make him shudder, to send chills racing down his spine. And soon enough the words were spilling out of him, the descriptions of what he’d done. “they never listened. I always tr-tried but they w-wouldn’t listen. If I didn’t… if I didn’t fight they’d k-kill them anyway. And then punish me. So I stopped… I tried… I always made it q-quick and p-painless, when I could. Sometimes they could fight, most could fight, most did, and sometimes it wasn’t… but I tried. I…” He trailed off, shaking his head, knuckles white from clutching his long cold mug. “so that’s the scars. I mean, there were the tests too, those are the more even and consistent ones, when they were testing healing rate or something. I think that’s what it was anyway.” Absently, he rubbed along his arm, he could feel the bumps of the scars underneath from that one. Straight lines starting an inch long and barely a milimeter deep, slowly getting longer and deeper up to his shoulder, where they’d cut down nearly to the bone. Everything had scarred horribly, of course, it’s not like he got any meaningful medical treatment from his alien captors, besides the bare essentials to keep him alive and useful for another day. Another drain. He took in a shuddering breath. “and the stun baton burns, those scarred. And… well, they were never careful with the needles.” He whispered, unable to meet their gazes, to see what lay there.</p><p>“Virgil. It wasn’t your fault. It’s like I said, that wasn’t you. You didn’t have a choice.” He shook his head. </p><p>“I did. I did, and I was just too much of a coward to make it.” He mumbled bitterly, breath knocked out of him as Patton careened into his chest, hugging him as tight as he possibly could. </p><p>“Virgil, you better not be suggesting what I think you are.” Patton’s voice was soft and scolding, beneath the undertones of worry. </p><p>“what else could I do? If I’d just let one of them, any of them, win-“ </p><p>“They would have simply sold you for parts and attempted to catch another human, or simply continued smuggling other innocent beings. You made the best possible choice you could at every given moment.” Logan cut him off from that train of thought. </p><p>“no one, no one here, blames you, Virgil. There was nothing you could have done.” Roman added. And now, even now, even knowing everything he’d done, not one of them were looking at him with fear or hatred or disgust, they were all… worried. Worried and warm and caring, and god, what did he ever do to deserve this, what could he possibly have done to deserve this? </p><p>He shattered. He shattered, because for the first time, he believed them. He let himself believe them, about everything. It wasn’t his fault. He did the best he could at any given moment. He survived. He got out. He got Patton out. They didn’t hate him. They thought he was just as important as them, cared about him, wanted to help him and protect him and listen to him. They were his family. </p><p>He was sobbing again. Sobbing and blubbering and he couldn’t see through the waterfall flowing down his face, but it wasn’t from fear or pain, it was relief. It was letting out everything he’d bottled up inside, everything he hadn’t let show, all the grief and sorrow and loss he hadn’t had the luxury of letting himself feel, and it felt so damn good to just let it all go. Let the years and years and years just… go. </p><p>“Can I-“ </p><p>“Y-yes. Please.” He gasped out, knowing what Patton was asking, instantly feeling him hugging him around his chest. After a moment, he felt Roman pull him close, then Logan settled on his other side, surprising him by wrapping an arm around his shoulders and one around Roman’s, sandwiching him in a group hug as he continued to gasp in breathes between wrenching sobs, emptying out a seemingly endless reserve. </p><p>He didn’t know how long it was, before his sobs finally turned into sniffles, finally died out into gasps as he tried to get himself in order, finally wiping at his face with his hoodie sleeve, without pulling out of the hug he was the center of, unwilling to remove himself from this warmth. </p><p>“thank you. Just… thank you.” He whispered, voice choked but he was smiling, smiling wider and realer than he had in years, enough it hurt, as he let out a small laugh. It was like the weight of the world had been removed from his shoulders, like the sun had come out for the first time in millenia, like he could finally breathe, just breathe, without the universe crashing down around him. </p><p>“Of course, Virgil. We are here for you. We all are.” Logan replied, and he nodded, unable to stop grinning as he scrubbed again at his face. </p><p>“I know.” He answered, and for once, for once, he meant it.</p>
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